Sunday February 5, 1984

 5th Sunday after Epiphany

Chillandham Cross, Itchen Abbas, Hampshire

Rain. I was unable to get out of bed when Samuel woke and left Ally to it. My eyes felt like lead weights. I finally climbed out at 10:30. Ally was bright and breezy and had eaten breakfast and clad in red pants and blue wellies was washing Mandy Metro on the drive. Frank had dried the car floor and fixed the radio. The man has an obsession with car radios. Later we had a cozy gathering around the log fire - a pile of sausage rolls, 'Bonanza' on the telly and the Sunday newspapers. Sir Geoffrey Howe is doomed, though the PM sticks by him. The Duke of Edinburgh has been to visit the Grenadier Guards (?) in Ulster and the Roman Catholics are playing hell because the barracks house the UDR regiment, who have been killing Roman Catholics right, left and centre with apparent rellish. Bessie took out her camera and used a whole film on Samuel. Samuel with Mum, Samuel with Dad, Samuel with Frank, Samuel on rug, Samuel on chair, &c. Read Nancy Mitford until darkness fell. We were too lazy to switch on the lights. Ally slept cuddled next to me. Dined with F & B at 6:30 in the kitchen. Yorkshire puds and a large leg of lamb. A jolly affair. Frank knocked a glass of wine over me whilst I was holding Samuel, but the spill missed the baby. I was sodden. Watched Edward Woodward in a film afterwards, and Bessie took another film of Samuel pictures. To bed after 11. Nancy Mitford. TCP. Snores. Baby farts, &c.

-=-

Saturday February 4, 1984

 Chillandham Cross, Itchen Abbas

with Samuel.

A horrible night. We got no sleep. We snatched only a few minutes sleep after 5. I was laid amongst my pillows listening to a cock crowing. Who has a cock in Martyr Worthy? (You don't have to answer that one). I had a bath at 9 and left Ally sleeping and went down for breakfast with Bessie. We sat watching the young gardener digging in the mud. Poor sod. Looked at the Daily Express. Sir Geoffrey Howe isn't going down too well. Bessie is right when she commented: 'he should have stuck to looking after the money.' The man lacks the polish that's required for the Foreign Office. Samuel stirred at 10:45 and I took him down to his grandmama. Rain outside. Frank and Bessie seem lost for something to do. We are told that Andrew has sought Dad's advice about becoming engaged to Lorraine and Frank told him straight that he didn't think much of it. They have only known each other for 10 months and have no money and both are so very young. She's only 18. Andrew was 'hot under the collar' at his father's advice and relations have been strained since the conversation took place last weekend. They have decided that this is all Lorraine's idea and that she is pushing Andrew. They do underestimate the poor lad and I cannot help feeling sorry for him. He will do exactly what he wants in the end no doubt and I hope he'll be happy. A bit of responsibility and the love of a good woman might just give him the impetus to pull his socks up. 

Keeping the log fire stoked is a full time job which helped to pass the afternoon. Frank bruised his face chopping logs and gave himself a black eye. We watched the sport on the BBC. Skiing, &c. Boiled ham and chips for tea followed by more fire stoking. Ally and Samuel retired at 9:30 and Bessie, Frank and I watched Olivier in The Boys from Brazil - Gregory Peck playing Josef Mengele. Remind me never to have a Doberman Pinscher. Bed at 11:40 after gins and tonics.

-=-

Friday February 3, 1984

 Chillandham Cross, Itchen Abbas, Hampshire

Their is nothing quite like sitting in bed at 5am with a TCP mouthwash and the June 1983 edition of Homes and Gardens draped across ones knees, and sweaty knees at that. Feel 'throaty'. Bloody typical. I always go down with something in Hampshire. I got up and crept around making pots of tea at dawn but bumped into Frank heading towards his study. The man is a workaholic. What will he do when he retires?  ______. In bed until 8:30 and then I washed my son and bedecked him out in a peppermint creation and passed him on to his mama for breakfast. The usual fried repast for us. Bessie, unwell, is like a ghost. We sat around the log fire. I continie with Homes & Gardens reading about how the top 2 per cent live. 'Bubbles' Rothermere's flat, &c. 

Winchester Cathedral.

We took Samuel to see Winchester Cathedral - a thousand years old and still unfinished. Little men in overalls with baskets of cement whistling along to Boy George on Radio 1. Back at 4 and slept in the chair before the blazing inferno. Chicken for dinner which seemed to cook for hours and hours. The kitchen was like a Turkish bath. Ally phoned Graham who was dashing out. Bessie asked vaguely whether Graham still 'plays games'. Eh? 'Does he still go out and play that game where you roll things at something', she vaguely inquired. 'Skittles', she decided. Frank came in at 9 from a bank leaving do. He frowned. The bank manager who was leaving had a peroxide wife who was pissed and wearing polka dots. We watched a Channel 4 programme on childbirth. Bessie sat with her hand over her eyes, a little embarrassed. As an 18 year-old St John's Ambulance worker she saw the very first baby born in 1940 in Colne. To bed at 11:30 and looked at a Nancy Mitford book. Ally was half asleep waiting for Samuel to wake, which he did at 12:45. He was hot and red like a lobster. Exquisite.

-=-

Thursday February 2, 1984

 Chillandham Cross, Itchen Abbas

River Itchen at Martyr Worthy.

The Rhodes family on holiday at Martyr Worthy. The three of us. Samuel was fed at about 6am and then slept until after 10. Poor Bessie didn't get up and was in her bedroom. A sunny, bright and crisp day. The south is always so mild after the wilds of bleak Bradford. By the time we've had a cooked breakfast and changed the baby eighteen times it was 2pm. I feel 'heady' with a creeping sore throat. We bundled Samuel up and pushed him down the lane to the river but turned round because of the mud and walked down the road to Itchen Abbas. A house on the site of the old derelict railway station is called 'Beeching' - no doubt after Lord Beeching, who closed the place down, and by this act of vandalism, brought about the construction a new housing estate. Saw Mrs Bullock driving around feeding the 'Over 60s'. She didn't recognise us. Back to Ch. Cross after an hour. Bessie was slumped in a chair with her knitting. Log fire, deep velvet chairs, &c. Baby bathtime. Samuel cried like a lamb throughout the hair washing but was stunned to silence on entering the water. Bessie took photos of him splashing. We dined on grilled braising steak because Bessie went to the freezer without her specs and picked up the wrong meat. Tough. Washed nappies. David Attenborough on the telly. News: Mrs Thatcher goes to Budapest draped in furs looking like Catherine the Great or Zsa Zsa Gabor. Bed at 12.

-=-

Wednesday February 1, 1984

Chillandham Cross.

 5, Club St, Lidget Green, Bradford

New Moon

6:00am chorus. Very good because Samuel went through the night with no feed. Pots of tea and the radio. My hair is sticking out all over and I have decided to have it taken away. Rain. We pushed Samuel over the road to the church hall and have him weighed at the clinic and an MOD inspected his knees, which click. This is nothing to worry about. He weighs 8lb 9oz. Ally was quite revolted at the size of some of the other babies. Great fat things with thighs like legs of pork in a butcher's shop. Samuel is so pleasantly proportioned. At 10:30 I walked down to have my hair cut but the place was closed. Got soaked to the skin and stamped around in puddles. I dislike having my plans thwarted and I stormed home. When Samuel slept Ally went to Vallances and ordered a new washing machine and dryer for £24.75 a month. Not bad. We packed in a disorganised fashion. In fact I didn't pack at all. That sort of thing is Ally's department. Set out to Winchester at 3 and arrived at 7:30. Samuel slept until Oxford and wailed from then on. Heart rending to hear him crying with hunger in the back. We found Bessie full of cold and looking ghastly. Neither she or Frank touched the baby because of it. We ate pork chops and watched TV. Looked at photographs. Hasn't the baby changed in three weeks. It's frightening. He'll soon be a rebellious teen with green hair, sniffing solvent adhesives and sleeping around. To bed at 12.

-=-

Tuesday January 31, 1984

 5, Club Street, Lidget Green

2:50am. Samuel was chattering like a cheetah, or the chimps in those Johnny Weissmuller 'Tarzan' epics. I got up to look at him and he was sucking his mittens with great concentration. Pots of tea, &c. To knock Samuel out I continued with the Windsor saga and he dropped off somewhere after George VI's coronation and the emergence of the Hitler threat. Much more interesting than stuff about three bears. Went back to bed for a few hours. At breakfast time I went out and bought a fresh loaf and a newspaper. Slippery under foot. We messed around until after 12 changing, feeding, then changing again. I sat with Elizabeth Longford's book. Eventually we put the pram in the car and went into town where we inspected washing machines and pine beds (£180 at Cheap 'n Cheerful). Ally inspected the bed and I stayed in the street pushing Samuel around in his pram. Negotiating snow drifts is something of a military exercise. We arrived home at 4 to find Harry and Marian Miller driving into the street behind us. They came in for a cup of tea but Samuel screamed with hunger. He had been patient all afternoon. The Millers were drivern out after half an hour. Harry almost talking to himself about a pub near Eggborough Power Station. We later phoned our mothers. We're going to Winchester tomorrow after clinic and to Horton on Tuesday Feb 7. Ally phoned the Moorhouse and asked if we can store some furniture there on Sunday Feb 12. The Piries said yes. They are flogging the microwave oven for £125. A bit steep? Cottage pie. Watched 'Dallas' and the news. Ronald Reagan is to run again as expected. His only rival is Fritz Mondale, but he'll get back in. That's a cert. Bed at 11. The little boy slept from midnight but seemed to be having nightmares twitching and flinching in his cot.

-=-

Monday January 30, 1984

 5, Club Street

Auntie Mabel and Samuel.

4am rise. Pots of tea. __________. Slept until 8 and then decided we really must visit the Moorhouse Inn today and so I went down and phoned Michael Pirie. No breakfast and instead we packed the slumbering child into the car and drove to Leeds eating biscuits en route. We couldn't find the pub although we could see the blocks of flats nearby. We found the Piries in a state of chaos - half packed. We met a vague Irish cleaner and saw Audrey ('a first class barmaid' according to Chris Wills). They took us upstairs for coffee  and Pirie gave us a run down again of the trouble he's had in two years. Not bad at all when one thinks of the Why Not. The dogs and cats sat licking their lips (if they actually have lips?) at Samuel's pram which we placed on a table midst the potted palms and Victoriana. I do not trust cats with babies. I have seen too many Hitchcock thrillers. We left at 12. Should we buy the Pirie's microwave which they paid £169 for in September? How much should we pay them? Home at 1. We all fed. We had a full-English. Rain. Then back to Pudsey. Mabel was out and so we went to Marlene's. She was out too. So we went to Jill's. Tim is in London. Samuel made a dive for Jill's bossom. Back to Mabel's at 5. Samuel was crying with hunger. We stayed for half an hour and auntie cuddled him so tightly that she almost squeezed the life out of him. We promised to return next week. Home at 6. Fish fingers. Bed at 10. No TV.

-=-

Sunday January 29, 1984

 5, Club Street

4th Sunday after Epiphany

3:45 again. I stepped out to inspect my growing progency, who patiently awaited his morning repast. I went down to wash nappies and crept around. Greater love hath no man .....

Talked of visiting Auntie Annie in Colne eager to get out and about with our beady eyed angel. The thaw is here and we feel sure that the roads over the border will be passable now. I cooked a full-english (breakfast) which Ally moaned about because I fried with the kitchen window wide open. Margaret Nason phoned to say that Christopher has mumps and saw an emergency doctor in the night. Ally phoned Sue to sympathise and spoke to the invalid who told her he has 'umps'. 

Auntie Annie with Samuel and Ally.

At 1pm we set off to Colne in a burst of sunshine. I sat in the back of the car like a nanny next to my well-wrapped issue. We got to Auntie Annie's at about 2 and Samuel immediately squealed until he was fed and changed. Ally fed Samuel in Uncle Bert's downstairs bedroom. We had soup and sandwiches. I questioned Annie about the Dixon lineage and she went away to find old family photos and certificates. She came back from the loft covered in dust and with her father's birth certificate (a copy dated 1905) which was in three pieces and like the Dead Sea Scrolls. Thomas Dixon was born on July 13 1890, registered by his father who signed with a mark being unable to write. he was born at Sherfin Side, Henheads, Haslingden, son of Thomas Dixon, farmer and stone quarrier, and of Mary Dixon formerly Ashworth. Ally's grandpa's birth was registered Aug 27 1890. So, Ashworth is another branch to contend with. She showed us Great Auntie Ellie's death certificate too. She was born a Jobling and was found dead by Annie on March 24 1973. Poor Uncle Bert sat in his armchair like a lump of cheese, but he spoke much better than on previous occasions. We took our leave after 5 and jouneyed home the picturesque way through Haworth in the dark, Ally shouting for Heathcliff over the moorland road.  We sat with more sandwiches and pots of tea and watched a Richard Burton film The Medusa Touch. Quite good. Bed at 11. I nursed Samuel until he dropped off and instead of telling him all about Goldilocks and the Three Bears I recounted to him the tragedy of the Abdication Crisis of 1936 which soon knocked him out. Read the Queen Mother by Elizabeth Longford and lights went out at midnight.

-=-

Saturday January 28, 1984

 5, Club Street

Baby was awake at 3:45 and was immediately fed by his saint of a mother. I went down to brew tea coughing as I went, rasping like George V might have done at Bognor Regis. Back to bed until 10am. Ally woke me shouting from the bathroom to tell me the phone was ringing below. It was John, who said he is heading to Bradford to go to Wickes, a nauseating DIY centre close by. He appeared with Janette at 11 and we had tea together, before going off to buy wooden doors and brass handles. I bought an interior mirror for Mandy Metro - £1.90. Janette says she is in love with Martyn Cole and has dreams about him. Much laughter. Home at 12:30. Ally wore jeans for the first time since last May or June. Janette made some tuna sandwiches and we had slurps of alcoholic refreshment listening to the (Rolling) Stones. John and Janette left at 4 squabbling, but not seriously. Janette's sister and brother-in-law are arriving and apparently John knew nothing about it. We had an omelette and listened to Radio 4. It was Princess Michael of Kent on 'Desert Island Discs'. She has a beautifully gushing personality and is obsessed with our feline friends. Supremely aristocratic. In comparison Princess Anne is like Rita Webb. I stayed up until 1am watching Peter Cushing in one of his hopeless films. I read too. Ally and Samuel departed at 10:30.

-=-

 

Friday January 27, 1984

 5, Club St, Lidget Green, &c

Samuel stirred at 6am which was good. By the time he was fed and clad in yellow garb it was 7:45 and Terry Wogan was mouthing at us over the radio. A pile of photos arrived - the first of Samuel and we gleefully scanned through them.

A definite thaw and the street is dripping. A fog too. After breakfast of poached eggs a fat health visitor arrived. She has a pathologicl hatred of christian names being shortened. She told us that her husband is 'Kenneth' and anyone who calls him 'Ken' soon knows never do it again. She hissed. She discussed 'family planning' but Ally shrugged it off saying she has discussed this with Dr Duck. (Gynaecological redaction). The fat woman stabbed Samuel in the ankle and took a blood sample and then removed his clothes and inspected him like a skinned rabbit. His knees made a noise when she manipulated them. I thought the noise was the melting snow splashing on the window. No worries though. Ally goes to the clinic on Wednesday.

Bingley.

After lunch we wrapped Samuel in white woollies and piled the pram into the car and and went off in the damp mist to Bingley. Yes, Samuel's first outing. We spent an hour trying to park the car in a snow-free spot and we walked in the slush to the shops. Bought pork chops, butter, &c. Ally was whacked. Back at home we ate the chops and baked two cakes - chocolate and coffee. Watched a St Trinian's epic starring the late, great, unsurpassable Joyce Grenfell. Ageless humour. Baby was starving and we blamed the fresh, Bingley air. The house was hot like a greenhouse and I stripped down to my underwear. Bed fairly early.

-=-

Thursday January 26, 1984

 5, Club St, Lidget Green, &c

Fresh snow has fallen. Samuel fed at 3:30am and then slept until 8. I left Ally feeding and went out to buy a fresh loaf and newspapers. At 8:30 I began shovelling snow until noon to make a track for the car. The fat woman from across the road helped and we joyfully met in the middle. A 'know all' passing by told me that our house walls are 'bellying' and that the people buying Mrs Greenwood's house are unhappy about it. ______. Sat with blistered hands with my boiled eggs and toast soldiers (or Gurkhas, as I call them). 

We have a letter from Whitbread's thanking us for our application. They request our presence at an interview on February 1. We must have written to them in March last year, and this is our first communication from them.

Samuel was 'flat out' until 5 o'clock and I took phots of him in his chair. He is two weeks old today. 

Tardis: destroyed

News: Ronald Reagan has given his 'state of the union' address. Will he run again, that is the question? By the end of a second term in office he'll be 78. Old really. But look at Churchill. He battled on into his 80s. Walter Mondale looks like a 'wet'. At 6 Ally went to sleep flat out on the floor. Both my loved ones slumbering. Mum phoned from snow-bound Horton-in-Ribblesdale. They have had some beautifully coloured birds in their garden. Like parrots, she said. Dad has been in the bushes with his camera like David Bellamy attempting to capture the beautiful plumage on film. _________. 

Sometghing awful has just happened (7:05pm) - the 'tardis' on Dr Who has been destroyed. I feel sick inside. This event is equal only to the loss of the Titanic and the abdication of Edward VIII.

Up to bed with Samuel at 10:30, and he slept an hour later. I am reading a hideous book 'Royal Lists' by Craig Brown and Lesley Cunliffe. Terrible.

-=-

Wednesday January 25, 1984

 5, Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford

Ally and I were awake at 8 but Samuel didn't stir. I went out to inspect the snow before breakfast and went to the shops, forgetting what it was I was supposed to be buying. Senile dementia probably. More snow fell in the night and my digging yesterday was wiped out. I watched Mary across the road falling flat down in the snow. She emerged looking like a clown. Toast with Ally. She now fits into her jeans. Ally phoned Catherine Alderson who knows of our baby news having seen the white nappies blowing on the washing line. ___________. We have heard nothing from Lynn since she came last week. Today I made no attempt to move the snow which is piling up outside. Bad of me really because I sat watching the old age pensioners on the street sliding around. I sometimes think we are the only residents of Club St under the age of 84.

Ally quite beautiful today. Her pre baby figure has returned with a speed we didn't think possible. She was upset when Samuel cried - genuinely upset. I told her the boy is in no pain. Isn't crying just a baby's way of communicating?

David Watts came at 5 and we gave him dinner. He is another one who doesn't touch infants. Jean is having dizzy spells and Hannah is undergoing numerous blood tests. Sounds grim. We had a lasagne and jacket potatoes. Is it etiquette to devour the jacket? I always do. We drank elderberry wine '83 - excellent, but strong. David brought two family bibles but they didn't reveal much. Ally went to bed at 10:30 and I watched Clint Eastwood in Magnum Something or Other.

-=-

Tuesday January 24, 1984

 5, Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford

Still, deep snow. Ally prodded me at 6:30. Samuel had slept since 11:30 last night. What a good boy he is. Ally 'topped and tailed' the infant and I went down with buckets of filthy nappies to wash them and make pots of tea and biscuits. Plunged into a hot bath. Boiled eggs for breakfast. Ally came down in red dungarees and yellow shirt carrying our wide-eyed heir. They sat on the settee listening to Ella Fitzgerald. Samuel particularly enjoys 'Manhattan'. Heavily wrapped I went out into the thaw, well it certainly looks like a thaw. Everything dripping and too bright and clear for further snow. I bought a newspaper and squelched around digging out the car from its white grave. I had to borrow a spade from Mary. She talked about 1947 like old people do whenever snow is lying on the ground. 

Tubby slept in his cot, and Ally, flat out on the floor, slept. I watched an awful 1940s film. Baby woke and I nursed him. I find his face quite fascinating. I phoned Dave Glynn. He laughed at the name Sam. 

We had chicken stew at 5:30. Dumplings - the lot. The TV was diabolical and for some reason we lost Channel 4. Must be the weather. Ally phoned David Watts who was just back from visiting Jean and baby Hannah. They had a real old heart to heart which isn't usually Ally's style.

Ally was tired tonight. We went up to bed at 11. This is Samuel's time to let rip. We messed with him until after 12. I feel shattered too. This father lark isn't all pipe and slippers and mint imperials. Dear me, no. According to 'today's birthdays' in the D.Telegraph Lord Spencer was 60 yesterday, and again today. In fact the earl's birthday is today.

-=-

Monday January 23, 1984

 5, Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford

The baby whimpered at 4:30 and our early morning ritual was thrown into operation. Samuel is like a hamster with brown beady eyes and pink sagging cheeks. I can see that he is filling out already and has achieved this with nothing but his mother's milk. You must be getting sick of this constant baby banter. 

We did not eat until noon. I had the usual egg and bacon but Ally stuck to toast and complained about the aroma from my frying. She opened the windows even though snow is lying deep outside. I spied sherpas on Necropolis Rd. 

We signed our management agreement and copies. It's like the Treaty of Versailles, or whatever it was they signed at the end of World War 1. Wrote to Bessie and my aunt Annie in Bramley. She is my only surviving great-aunt and is 79. I battled on out for a newspaper and was knee-deep in snow. I wore the tweed flat cap I found whilst walking home from Blackpool in '78 and look like Capt Phillips, minus the sturdy beast ( I am not referring to Princess Anne either). Nothing much in the (Daily) Telegraph. Rumblings about the Queen's recent speeches sparked off by criticisms from Enoch Powell. I must admit I found the last Queen's Christmas message peculiar. Did I say so at the time? Indira Gandhi was the star attraction. I cannot identify with the so-called Commonwealth. A collection of murderous banana republics of exceedingly dubious allegiances and led, in the main, by _______ who think they are either Napoleon Bonaparte or Che Guevara. No, my Queen, stick to concentrating upon us in Bradford and forget your territories beyond the seas. They are largely awash with discontent.

Phoned the Moorhouse and said we'd go on Thursday hopefully.

News: The Earl of Warwick is deceased in Rome. Tea prices are rocketing. (Tony) Benn will get Chesterfield. Horrendous.

Chick salad at tea time. David Watts phoned at 5:35 to say Jean gave birth to a baby girl weighing 5lb 12oz at 3:20am today but that poor Jean is weak and has lost more blood than she should have. She only went into labour until 11pm last night and didn't tell David until it was too late and he missed the birth by 10 minutes. The infant is probably going to be called Hannah. Mum phoned at 7 o'clock. They are snow bound at Horton. She had a phone call last night from great-auntie Annie and told her our news. This always happen when I write. Samuel was niggly tonight and we didn't sleep until 11:30. We sat reading in bed and giggling ... like you do.

-=-

Sunday January 22, 1984

 3rd Sunday after Epiphany

5, Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford

Baby slept until 6am which is amazing. Ally however woke at three and then again at 5 to listen for him. I went down in the dark to make pots of tea to find a thick carpet of snow outside. Cemetery Road was covered and a deathly silence hung over Lidget Green. It looked like the Brenner Pass. Samuel has been home for a whole week. He was fed and then slept and we went back to bed until 10am. He is such an amiable baby, and not in the least miserable. Slouched around half dressed until noon. Fried eggs and bacon and sat at the dining table watching the boys from the corner shop building a snow Yeti. A nurse appeared at 1:30 as Beethoven was belting out. Evidently, if you play Ludwig's tunes to a new baby they develop into mathematicians, according to the Americans anyway. She, the nurse, gave Ally the all clear and disappeared in her massive wellies into the white distance. We watched the second version of 'The 39 Steps'. Hopeless. I always think of Kenneth More as Sir Douglas Bader and expect his legs to fall off any minute. The heavy snow today deterred family visitors. We were pleased at this. Washed twelve nappies and changed Samuel numerous times. Sludgy yellow to green nappies. Ally had a nap after 6. Dined on roast chicken, brocolli, potatoes, Yorkshire puddings, &c. Saw the end of The Thorn Birds. The old cardinal snuffed it. The final straw was the Jimmy Young TV show where Greenham Common women heckled Lady Olga Maitland. ______. I would put the lot of them in Holloway and let them rot.  To bed at 11:30. Samuel did not stir and we drifted off into the grey oblivion.

-=-

Saturday January 21, 1984

 5, Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford

Club Street from Cemetery Rd

Samuel started to cry at 1:30am and so we spent a couple of hours feeding and changing. His eyes are as big as saucers. ______. A midwife visited and remarked how well Ally looks. Today she wore her blue 'Margaret Thatcher' frock and looked positively skinny. The bump has disappeared over night. Sue, Pete and Christopher came at 2:30, and Sue held her nephew for the first time. Her bump is starting to show now and she took home Ally's maternity dresses. Good riddance. Over cups of tea we decided it would be nice to have further offspring in the autumn of 1985. Is this asking too much? My God, I'll be thirty.

A management agreement document arrived from David Tyne. We now have to write back and say 'yes please, we do want the Moorhouse'. Ally sniffs that the money isn't much different to the trainee wage, but I remind her that we can make £100 a week on food, plus the bonus we receive in June or July. Chris Wills collected £1500 for doing nothing startling. The Nasons went off at 3. We ate sandwiches. Ally slept on the settee and I covered her beneath a quilt. She and Samuel snored. Mum phoned. They have been doing a lot of walking in the hills. I am pleased. It sounds healthy. ________. To bed at 11:40. How much sleep will we get tonight?

-=-

Friday January 20, 1984

 5, Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford

Samuel has a hairy back and shoulders, you know. I have to record these things because in ten years time who will remember? A freezing but bright day. A full washing line again. Sister Matthews came to see our son for the last time. She is on holiday next week and so we are to have another nurse. Ally felt quite at ease with the homely Miss Matthews. Perhaps we'll see her again some day. Samuel's tiny bit of umbilicle cord fell off too. Cards arrived from Bessie's cronies: Avril Hargreaves at Chilland Barn, and Margaret Hellier in Doncaster. My pay arrived from the brewery. £420 for doing absolutely nothing. I haven't set foot behind a bar since Christmas Eve. I find their kindness heart rending. Our society isn't all grab and coldness. Orwell's 1984 isn't here yet though David Tyne does look a little like 'Big Brother'. L. Gledhill phoned at 10 as I was washing nappies and says we can start at the Moorhouse on February 13, a Monday. This should give us a little extra time with Samuel first. I have to go to court in Leeds on Friday Feb 10th. Ally phoned Bessie who is flying to Jersey and then on to Guernsey to join Frank. She is dining with a pack of bankers wives tonight and is taking photos of Samuel with her. The knitting needles are continuing to click furiously at Winchester and at Horton-in-Ribblesdale. We discussed Samuel's christening. How about Mothering Sunday? Godparents are to be Lynn, Sue, and Dave G and Andrew._________. Will shall have to find the church at Hunslet and start the ball rolling. This evening: had salad. Watched a St Trinians film. They are masterpieces of British comedy. Bed at 11. Snatched a few hours sleep. Dropped off to the sound of Samuel breathing furiously in his basket. Is he reallyh ours to keep?

-=-

Thursday January 19, 1984

 5, Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford

Before I forget - Samuel had his vitamin K injection yesterday. He was very brave and only squealed once. He was fed in the middle of the night and then slept until 7. I went out into the frost and ascended Paternoster Lane to collect a prescription for eye drops. Samuel has a weepy left eye which has matted. I slid around in the ice with all the folk heading out to work. What a blessing it is that I no longer have to battle my way into Leeds every day as in days of old. We had a leisurely breakfast sat at the table. Eating off trays does become a habit. In the middle of our repast a midwife appeared with a male nurse, and because of this my Rice Krispies went soggy. Sister Matthews gave Samuel his eye drops and inspected his umbilicle cord which bled slightly. It should have fallen off by now. Later, I added my son to the family tree. He is the fourth Samuel Rhodes in a line going back to about 1840. The last is of course my poor cousin Samuel ____________. 

We ate odds and ends and couldn't be bothered cooking anything. Ally had a fit of giggles writing to her aunts thanking them for presents. She was amused at some of the suggestions thrown in by me. Eventually she turned out a couple of run of the mill lettters. I went out to buy a loaf and a birthday card for Graham Smith. Ally phoned Charlotte Smith, who was delighted at our news. Isobel is three feet tall. Is this gigantic? Have the Smiths produced a monster? Ally then phoned Marlene. We were visited by Mary Moore and then John arrived at 8. He was without Janette. They have fallen out again. Saw 'Top of the Pops'. Paul McCartney is at the top. Saw David Attenborough on a mountain top. It would have looked nice in colour. Also watched James Fox play Orwell. An odd fish. Upstairs Ally fed Samuel all night. John, who left at 11, didn't touch the baby. Samuel is too tiny. 

-=-

Wednesday January 18, 1984

 Full Moon

5, Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford

At 7:30 I was flat out in bed and dead to the world. Ally feeding our beautiful son. The boy has such eyes. If we could only know what he is thinking as he holds his mother's hand as he feeds. Mum phoned to say they are coming. I went out to buy cotton wool balls. It's slushy under foot still. Mum and Dad came at lunchtime and we toasted Samuel in Charles VII champagne. Dad took me to town as Ally fed the boy and he visited the bank and took me to the register office where I have Samuel certified. They have changed the shape of birth certificates. I came away clutching two copies. To Mothercare. I spent £141 on a pram (blue), and harness, &c. Dad was horrified at the price. He says my pram cost £15 in 1955, but then he only earned £9 a week in those days, and so it's all relative. We carried the boxes to the car and returned home. Dad isn't used to town traffic and he dodged in and out like James Hunt coming back to Lidget Green. At home we erected the pram. Mum says she will be able to have her pearl wedding celebrations at the Moorhouse. An excellent idea. We sat looking at the baby and he sat looking at us. ________. They left at 8 to avoid Les Gledhill who sauntered in at 8:30. He had me signing wads of documents. I am to take over the Moorhouse Inn on 2nd/7th February, but Les is so very vague. "You'll get about seven thousand-ish" he muttered. He stood looking at my books mocking the royal family. He then spent ages looking at my map of Sussex. I bet he's a lonely guy. Felt tired, but happy. Samuel slept until after 10 and Ally fed him in bed. He much prefers her left side to the right. 

-=-

Tuesday January 17, 1984

 5, Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford

Bitterly cold, slushy. I went out to buy some copies of the YP. Samuel's birth is in both papers today. I collected Samuel's Konakion injection from the chemist. Dr Duck wants sister Matthews to administer it. We received a large knitted shawl from Auntie Mabel, and cards from her, from Sarah and Delia, and Auntie Annie, in Colne. I phoned Nellie Rhodes to tell her we have another Samuel (the father of the twins was a Samuel Rhodes, who died in 1928). Nellie says Edna fell last week and broke a leg. Auntie Hilda phoned and spoke to Ally, and I think she was surprised to find her at home and not in hospital. We can now expect a deluge of visitors. I don't mind. It will be great to show Samuel off. 

Useless information: Francis Pym, the ex-foreign secretary was presented with a grandson of the same name born on Jan 11. No important babies have arrived on the same day as Samuel. He is utterly unique. Today he is dressed in blue and as he lays asleep he has a Rhodes look about him. Probably the infant JPH springs to mind. I will have to consult my albums.

Sister Matthews came in a flurry of snow looking like a female Santa Claus and she bathed and weighed Samuel. He wasn't at all disturbed by the water but scowled and frowned when stripped of his nappy. Marita phoned. We have pinched her name. Samuel is on her list of baby names. I went out and bought an EP for the announcement. Other children have such ghastly modern names. The girls are all Leanne Louise and the boys Darren. Hopeless. Very tired tonight. I fried liver and onions, Yorkshire puddings, &c. 'Dallas' was on but we didn't watch. Ally phoned Auntie Mabel, Harry Miller, Gill (who says Philip and Carol are expecting issue in June or July), then Bessie phoned us. She's been buying again. Samuel must be one of the best dressed children in the western world. Bessie believes in spending her money while she can. I hold by that. To bed at 11. Baby was restless. Ally blames her 'faffing' and we didn't sleep before 2. Dirty nappies abound. Samuel howled and only stopped when over my shoulder. I paced the bedroom to give Ally a break.

-=-

Monday January 16, 1984

 5, Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford

Blizzard, but thaw later. We had a good night with Samuel (who fed at about 3am I think). He slept then until his 'breakfast' at 8. During the night he vomited some pinkish blood. Sister Matthews came at 11 and said Samuel might have a vitamin K deficiency (one in 10,000 babies is so deficient and it's more prevalent in boys). He may need a jab to reverse this. Sister Matthews sat and chatted amicably for an hour and when she went in walked Dr Duck in heavy boots and talked about the use of contraceptives. (Gynaecological redaction). I walked out to the chemist for something for Ally and slid around in the slush. I phoned the YP and had Samuel's birth placed in the YP and EP tomorrow. Spoke to Sarah who was pleased, but surprised I hadn't phoned sooner. Sue phoned, then Mum, then Auntie Mabel, who says she posted a package today for something for Samuel. I felt exhausted and fell asleep on the settee. Samuel sleeping peacefully in his cot. At 7 Les Gledhill phoned and spoke to Ally. 'When can you start?' he asked. And 'Why Samuel?' It's because we like the name of course. It looks as though we'll be at the Moorhouse Inn very soon. Gill phoned at 9:30.  We went to bed at 10.

-=-

Sunday January 15, 1984

 2nd Sunday after Epiphany

5, Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford

Bessie woke me at 9 to say Ally had just phoned to say she can leave the hospital between 10 and 10:30. Elation. I scurried around stripping the double bed and putting the bedding into the washing machine. Bessie ran around with a duster and we sat with tea and toast. Frank's cold continues. He is glum. We sat looking out at the snow and debate whether the car will make it through. If I have to hire a husky and three mountain sherpas I'll see my wife and son at home today so help me. We went at 10 and found Ally looking wonderful packing up the tons of knitwear offerings. I made three trips to the car with the floral offerings. Finally, at 10:30 a nurse carried our son downstairs and we drove home in something of a blizzard. At Club St I carried Samuel from the car and into the house. A splendid, unforgettable moment. We snapped around with the camera and I took lots of shots of Samuel with his Grandma Dixon. Bessie was over the moon. Frank wouldn't touch the baby because of his cold, silly because the poor infant must be breathing in the germs. Soup and sandwiches. Lynn, Dave and the girls arrived at about 2, and Frank and Bessie set off home at 2:30 into the white and oblivion. Poor Bessie hates living so far away. They phoned at 7 to say they were safely home. They have spoiled us since Thursday. Busy afternoon. Sister Matthews came to inspect Ally. Lynn left just after 4. Katie is most definately no longer a baby. If she'd been a boy she would have been Samuel Lawrence.

 (Gynaecological redaction). 

The snow disappeared when they hit Northamptonshire. Mum phoned too. They are coming in the week. Watched The Thorn Birds. Stupid. Ally slept. Saw the news. Prince Edward has glandular fever. Tony Benn is to stand for Chesterfield. Samuel had hiccoughs for the first time and was sick.

Saturday January 14, 1984

 5, Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford

Club Street (1984).

Very cold and snow. I was awake at 9:30 without a hangover despite the half dozen pints last night. Bacon for breakfast. Frank full of cold and restless. He said we should go out and so off we went in the red Mercedes and ended up at the Smith's Arms at Beckwithshaw, a Viking Tavern. Snow fell. We had soup and sandwiches. Back home tired at 3 and then to the BRI for 4 to see my wife and son. Joined by John, Janette, Lynn, Dave, Sue and Peter. They all came in to peep at my new found love. Sue was so enthusiastic _____. I have always said that newborn infants are always like poached eggs but my son doesn't fall into that category. He is a masterpiece. Ally looked great but Lynn says she looked 'peaky'. Cruel of her. All back to Club Street except Lynn and David, for gin and tonics. Frank and Bessie really took to Christopher. They all left in a flurry of snow at 6pm. I packed things for Ally and went to see her and Dave Watts at 7:30. Roads like ice. Treacherous. Vehicles were crashing everywhere. I spent three quarters of an hour with my favourite loves and then waited at the hospital until 9:30 for Frank who struggled to reach me in the snow. A slow drive to town. We ate at Giuseppe's Backyard. Steak today instead of veal. I am very relaxed with my in-laws. Who would have thought it? Frank used to terrify me years ago. We spoke about Ally and they both say what a brave little thing she has always been. So independent.

-=-

Friday January 13, 1984

 5, Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford

My first day,  full day, as a grown up Daddy. I retired to bed at 11 last night after having visited Ally at 7:30. Baby had his hair washed and I held him for a full hour. Ally expressed her dissatisfaction with the Chinese ward sister. I have taken great exception by the way Fran O'Brien phoned (last night) telling me I have to go to Middlesbrough today to see a policeman about the September massacre at the Why Not. This morning I went into town with Frank and Bessie and we bought masses of flowers and trailed around the market. Frank was vicious. He has a cold and was in no mood to walk. I went to Samuel's (jewellers, appropriately enough) and bought Ally a gold locket costing £57. Who cares? My God, she's worth it. For lunch we drove to Thornton and sat in a deserted pub. I had scampi. Bessie had a chicken leg, and Frank sat patting a fat poodle. Back home I went to see Annie Whincup and Phyllis Beale. The latter is an old moaner. To the hospital at 4. Just me and the four grandparents. Samuel is very much like his uncle Andrew. He has skin like a peach and the most beautiful black hair. He slept contentedly. Ally was cheerful and bright and so pleased that she can feed him. We all returned here and had gins and tonic and sandwiches. They all chatted away nicely. My misgivings about a possible Dixon/Rhodes clash of personalities passed away. I went to see Ally from 7:30-8:30. Out at 9 to the Red Lion with Dave Watts. We endured the child-like Chris Wills. Elaine was busily bashing on her organ. I am surprised to discover they are both younge than us. Saw Sheryl and little Enid. Home at 12.

-=-

Thursday January 12, 1984

 5, Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford

The most magical day of our lives. I was asleep by midnight and was awakened by Ally with stabbing pains in her back. She was in agony, and the pains were coming at 10 minute intervals. We were determined to keep out of hospital as long as possible after yesterday's fiasco. At 5:30 I called an ambulance and Ally was taken out horizontally into the frost. In the panic I forgot to pick up Ally's notes, and so after dropping Ally the ambulance driver brought me home to collect them, and then I returned to the BRI in a taxi (£1.30).  (Gynaecological redaction). The nurses or midwives were generally a good lot but one was antagonistic throughout because Ally refused an injection for the pain. This made Ally all the more determined to get through the birth naturally. At 1:14pm a large, pink boy was forced out. He was born in a kaleiderscope of colour. Turquoise umbilicle cord, and crimson placenta. I was choked at MY SON'S arrival. We all wept. The student midwife burst into tears too. Samuel Lawrence Dixon Rhodes weighs 7lb 12oz  and is 20 inches long. He has black hair, blue eyes (of course), healthy, long-limbed, and an absolute miracle. The rest of the day is a blur. No words can capture the scene. We sat until 4 and then Mum and baby went to Ward M4 (room 4). Mum and Dad came to pick me up and I gave them a peep at their grandson. Back at Club Street Frank and Bessie came at 6. Ally phoned her Mum and Dad, Lynn, Sue and the brewery from the labour ward at 2:15. Mum and Dad left at 9 and Frank and Bessie took me to the Pizza House.

-=-

Wednesday January 11, 1984

 5 Club St, Lidget Green

Something is happening. (A large gynaecological redaction). I made a pot of tea and we debated whether we should ring the hospital. The sight of blood has made us uneasy. At about 6am Ally phoned the maternity unit for advice and they told her to go in. Heavily laden with luggage we went to the BRI. They put us in labour room 7 and we sat holding hands for two hours or more. Time stands still in hospital. I phoned Bessie and Mum with the news but by 10 I was beginning to regret it because Ally's contractions had ceased. Ally was good and calm and not in the least violent. At 11 they transferred us the the ante-natal ward, put out to grass, apparently abandoned. Dr Duck appeared and sent Ally for a scan, to which poor Ally went in a wheelchair, and I was sent home until visiting time at 4. Dad collected me in the rain at 12 and we joined Mum for some hideous fish and chips. We collected Ally at 5pm, by now slightly 'put out'. She had spent three hours in an overcrowded ambulance en route to the scan, and looked very pale. Home. Mum suggested a hot bath to 'get things going'. They left after a meal at 9:30 and we took baths. I was dead to the world and fell into a coma next to my large, pink,  and only true love.

-=-

Tuesday January 10, 1984

 5, Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford

The snots continued unabated. My £1.95 medication is neither use nor ornament. Ally woke with a hunger and at 9 I went out and bought a hot, brown loaf and the Daily Telegraph. We had boiled eggs upstairs, Ally balancing her tray upon her vast protrusion. We took hours to dress and drift downstairs. The waiting coninues. A bit of a strain. We decided to go buy a baby bath, a chair, and bucket for the dirty nappies. Wrapped up like mountaineers we went to Mothercare and spent £25 on these provisions. All our purchases are blue. This in no way means we expect a boy. We just didn't want white. After an hour in the soggy town we staggered back to the car. Ally like an overweight pug as she panted her way up Darley Street. At 2 she went to her mothercraft class at Odsal. 

I concocted a fish pie and listened to records at full throttle. I cannot do this when Ally is in. Her aversion to noise is growing worse. We listen to everything at a whisper. Ally was back at 3:30 and we ate half an hour later. Phoned John. The holiday was fine but he didn't enthuse. The temperature in Majorca was in the 60s. I told him that David Watts wants a dormer plastering. John needs some good indoor jobs. Later Dave Watts phoned to say he's found two family Bibles, and can he bring them? Ally told him no, tonight, and says we'll let him know. Mum phoned. Her cold has gone. We watched 'Dallas' and retired to bed. Ally sat reading 'The Moonstone' and I lay dribbling from the nose. To sleep after 12. Come along son/daughter.

-=-

Monday January 9, 1984

 5 Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford

My cold persists. Ally says baby will not come because he can hear me coughing, sneezing and sprogging. I got up early and went out into the frost to buy a newspaper and then made breakfast for Ally and climbed back into bed until 12. L. Gledhill phoned at 10 and spoke to Ally. He cannot understand why the baby hasn't arrived and asks whether we have our dates right. Ally responded 'yes', to which he replied 'Oh you can recall the night in question, can you?' Well, of course she can . (It was an afternoon actually). He says D.Tyne sees no impediment in our taking the Moorhouse, but we have to see the chief first. 

Rachel Ward.

We pulled up chairs closer to the fire. Ally buried beneath a Wilkie Collins book and I looked at the diaries of Harold Nicolson, but only half-heartedly. Watched the news. The Prince and Princess of Wales are in Liechtenstein skiing surrounded by 48 million photographers on the slopes. They will never be allowed any privacy. The heat from the fire put us both to sleep and we lay beneath our books until after 3. Auntie Hilda phoned to say she is thinking of us. 'The first one can be two weeks late, you know', she said. I winced. Looking ahead this week I see that we have a Friday the Thirteenth. Oh God. Will baby come then? We ate salad and I sat chewing like a rabbit. This cold will never go. A night in front of the TV. Watched Coronation Street. Most of the cast seem to have disappeared. We also watched another episode of The Thornbirds with Richard Chamberlain as a randy, unconvincing priest. Rachel Ward also stars. Miss Ward is Lord Dudley's niece. A bonnie lass. Watched a profile of John Wayne by Barry Norman. He was the epitome of the American man. Big, pushy, promiscuous and vulgar. They struck a Congressional Medal of Honour for him. He died the day Ally started working for Derek. To bed at 11. Ally sat reading The Moonstone, and I buried myseld beneath my quilt.

-=-

Charlotte & Graham Smith with Oscar.

Sunday January 8, 1984

 1st Sunday after Epiphany

5 Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford

The cold continues. I mean my cold and not the weather. Ally brought me tea and toast to bed and I remained beneath the sheets until 1pm. Felt rotten. Like gallons of water in my head. Downstairs in my dressing gown I sat dribbling in an armchair. Watched a film starring Peter Ustinov and co-starring the ghastly Melina Mercouri, who is now attempting to steal our Elgin Marbles. 

Susan phoned to ask about Ally's progress. She says Peter cannot stop worrying about us. It isn't like Peter to become excited about a baby. Feel honoured. Charlotte Smith phoned quite out of the blue to ask 'today is the day, isn't it?' How peculiar, they haven't answered our letters or tried to contact us for a long time. Ally spoke to Graham S and she could hear Isobel in the background. Ally phoned Bessie who snatched up the phone after only one and a half rings. They dined with Peter Gaffikin last night and played silly party games. For one game they had a name pinned to their back and had to match up with a partner. Bessie was CLEMENTINE and had to match up with 'satsuma'. I think I would have looked for Winston. Is this an omen? Ally came away chuckling. We haven't told Bessie of any of our chosen names, of course. 

Ally has a touch of back ache. We sat later watching The Thornbirds. Ally has just finished the book of that name by Colleen McCullough which she started reading at the Linthorpe. Have you noticed how my brain slips from one thing to another like a bee in a rose garden? To bed at 10 to escape Esther Rantzen on the BBC. Felt slightly better.

-=-

Saturday January 7, 1984

 5, Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford

Club Street.

After a sweaty night I woken up with a cold. Sneezing and spluttering everywhere. Ally washed a batch of nappies and I hung them out on the washing line to dry. It is a sight I thought I would never see. We have run out of food supplies and so we ventured out to Duckworth Lane at 12:30. Wet, windy and cold. I spent £1.95 on something to dry my galloping mucus. Back at home I fell asleep in an armchair watching John Wayne play Genghis Khan. Ally made a lasagne. I didn't enjoy it. It was like eating cardboard. My sense of taste and smell has died. Ally's emotions are all haywire. At the slightest excuse and with (illegible) encouragement she bursts into tears. It is a traumatic time for poor Piglet. I was still collapsed in the chair at 8pm and so I decided to go to bed. Ally needed no prompting either. Just as we retired Gill phoned from Coleford. It's so good to know that everyone is thinking of us. She says Matthew was in hysterics on Christmas Day. I took a pill and had a large glass of rum. According to Dr Duck tomorrow is the day.

Oh yes, Auntie Mabel phoned this morning (as I was hanging out the nappies) and she had a long chat with Ally. Uncle Jack (Paine) would have been 68 tomorrow. She says that babies are like apples and they only drop when they are ripe.

-=-

Friday January 6, 1984

 5, Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford

Epiphany comes and goes without any signs of the baby. Ally is agitated. She isn't the type to wait placidly and now the due date has arrived she wants the whole business over with. Frayed tempers. People phone throughout the day to enquire about developments. Sarah phoned to say that Kathleen is in a flap about it. Lynn phoned too. She says the best way to bring the baby on, according to Dr Jacques, is to have furious sexual intercourse. No chance of that. Instead, Ally polished the brasses and heaved the vacuum cleaner around, to no avail. We ate liver and onions on trays in front of the fire. Bessie phoned to say they are at the Lyndhurst Park Hotel tonight and dining with the sickly Dr Gaffikin tomorrow. She leaves phone numbers where to contact her. Gaffikin knows too much. He's in the Rotary Club with Frank. Sat down to a quiet night at 8:30 when the door opened to David and Jean Watts, who want to see how the baby bump is developing. David looks extremely nautical with a 'full set'. They want Samuel too, but David fancies 'Ian'. Ugh. We don't reveal Clementine. That is to be a surprise. They stayed until 11 and we discussed genealogy, the NHS and yes, christian names. They went, and we watched the beginning of a film, so old - John Gielgud looked like a 17 year old. Bed. Read Harold Nicolson's diaries.

-=-

Thursday January 5, 1984

 5, Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford

Ally is much better. No longer niggly and tiresome. No signs of impending motherhood. We were up early and out in the rain at 9:30 to Paternoster Lane where Ally saw Dr Duck. She came out in perfect health and has been told to wait patiently. The doc says Ally will not be allowed to wait longer than 13 days. It seems like eternity, but we know our child will come before January 21. At home I sat buried beneath my newspaper but the peace of the day was shattered by the telephone. It was Les Gledhill who asked to see me at the Red Lion at 2:30. Quiver, quiver. Is our destiny secured? I went out and cleaned the car after sweeping up the leaves that have clogged the pathway since autumn. In fact the garden looks horrible. It's like Greenham Common. Cheese and biscuits. My wife says I am a sloppy eater, but then she loves to criticise. 

We went to the Red Lion at 2:30. Felt most uneasy. The Willses kiss, cuddle, suck and chew and sit upon each other all for public display. I really think that Elaine thinks she's a latter day Brigitte Bardot or Pamela Stephenson. He (Chris) is like one of the dogs they possess and jumps at the snap of her fingers. L. Gledhill came and took us into a corner and told us that the Moorhouse Inn is ours. He only has D.T.N. Tyne to see and give the word, and we can have the place when our baby is about three weeks old if everything is ok. I find Les G such an easy man to get on with. He has treated me very well and I cannot complain about my Christmas break. However, he has to justify my name on the payroll and so we have to take a holiday from Sunday when hopefully Samuel/Clementine will be thinking about putting in an appearance. Ally is over the moon. Samuel Smith's have been very good to us and we can not have wished for better, fairer treatment. Chris and Elaine were lurking in the background and after L.Gledhill's departure they came to glean information. Chris says, somewhat cruelly, that Pirie at the Moorhouse was thumped, or 'done over' last week. Hardly the most tactful thing to say to Pirie's successor.  We left at 3:30 after seeing Jean and Enid - always pleasant. 

We sat at home with a drink looking at the Christmas tree (yes, it's still up) discussing our good fortune. Phoned Horton. Mum is full of cold and has been in bed since we left on Monday. She sounded awful. Phoned Glynnie. He and Lily leave for Acapulco (?) on Monday. He is calling in here after his two weeks in the sun. Ally spoke to Lily. Sue phoned for a bulletin. Her baby is now due on June 10. It's another 12 month pregnancy. Marita phoned to see if we fancy having a gathering before Dave L's return to South Elmsall on Sunday. Awkward. Pleasant chatter. I have so much in common with Marita. She never changes. Dave L is taking his mum to see them tonight. The Matthews residence is like Chatsworth. 'Horatio Hornblower' . Bath & bed at 9:30.

-=-

Wednesday January 4, 1984

 5, Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford

Ally: grizzly bear.

Fine, yet frosty. Ally was in a tetchy mood all day and we put it down to nerves. She was unbearable this morning. It's like living with a female Neil Kinnock. Quite intolerable. We were awake at 5am and by 6 I was compiling a letter to Les Gledhill asking 'please could you give us the Moorhouse?'  By 8 the letter was posted. I ventured out in the snow at dawn like Capt Oates to find a newspaper. Cecil Parkinson's mistress has given birth to a daughter. The Rev Jesse Jackson dominates the news. He clearly copies the late Martin Luther King and is very theatrical. Breakfast was volatile and eggs were almost thrown. We went out and sat in the car where I demolished the inside mirror. More Shakespearian tragedy. We sat there with a large tube of glue (like so many young people today), and managed to secure the rear view mirror back in place. We went to town and came back two hours later with sanitary towels, nappies, feeding bottles and cotton wool balls. Ally wore a very large brown pullover and looked like a grizzly bear. We had some funny looks. If you want to go out and get noticed take a gigantic, pregnant woman with you. She slept in her bed from 3 until 6:30pm. I sat and finished Margaret Thatcher by Penny Junor. Recent biographies, or those of the living are seldom very good. Who was it that advised 'never read a book that is not a year old?' Was it Ralph Waldo Emerson? Fish for dinner. Ally only ate it because I enjoy it. Feet up afterwards. The baby kicked away viciously, and Ally sat with her orange juice splashing around in the glass. We have, so it seems, created a rugby prop forward. 'Coronation Street' - Elsie Tanner has left and gone to live in Portugal, saying goodbye to the cobbles forever. Saw the wonderful (Alan) Whicker. I could watch him until the cows come home. This week he was on the QE2. Ally would hate it - the social climbers abound. Bed by 11. Ally is calmer and all is forgiven. She is sitting in bed with a smile upon her face.

-=-

Tuesday January 3, 1984

 New Moon

Waltergarth, Station Road, Horton-in-Ribblesdale

Waltergarth.

Katie Davina's first birthday. We woke up to snow at Horton and decided to leave for home very quickly and before we could be 'snowed in'. Mum missed breakfast and stayed in her bed complaining of a acheing back and congested chest. Dad was singing along to the Jimmy Young Show on the radio. Ally and I had boiled eggs. Very 'eggy' eggs, according to my wife. We packed up and left at about 12 and phoned Mum on our arrival home. They were very relieved that we had returned safely to Bradford. 

At 2pm Ally went to her her motherclass class at Odsal. She watched a demonstration by a midwife who bathed a doll in the bath, a bath without water in it. Her friend who was expecting a breech birth gave birth to a daughter on the Tuesday after Christmas. She came home after 4 in falling snow again. ________. I made some chips and whilst wrapping the potato peelings in an old copy of the Daily Telegraph I spotted the list of New Years Honours. The awful Alastair Burnet, a mere newscaster, has been knighted, lowering the tone. Lady Susan Hussey is made a DCVO. It is reported that the Queen has been angered by the usual flocking to Sandringham by the gentlemen of the press and she has asked for a withdrawal.___________.

A dark, frosty and white night. To think that John will be in his shirt sleeves in a Spanish discotheque. He says he wants to go to Lanzarote in the autumn to see John & Sheila, and that Sue and Pete are thinking of joining them. Ally says we should arrange someting for November. No mail at home. No communication from the brewery. We will write about the Moorhouse tomorrow. We cannot go hanging around like this and once the baby is here we need to get the ball rolling. I will be happier after hearing from Les Gledhill again. Bessie phoned - frost in Hampshire. Ally changed into her pink gown and slumped in a chair to watch 'Dallas'. We watched the news headlines at nine and then went to bed with Margaret Thatcher. The US presidential campaign is under way already. Jesse Jackson is a contender for the presidency and is currently strutting around the Middle East as if he owns the place.

Monday January 2, 1984

 Bank Holiday in UK & Rep. of Ireland

Waltergarth, Station Road, Horton-in-Ribblesdale

Dad at Horton.

Cold, wet and windy. Dad is 50, Mum is 49. Mum loves her birthday more than anyone I know and loves to include all the excitable children. We were up early to bid farewell to the Bakers after the handing over of presents and cards. We bought Dad a pullover, but so too did Lynn and Sue. Sue's, as usual, was knitted for a dwarf and didn't fit. She frequently purchases miniature items of clothing for very large people. Little Katie, who makes noises like a lion, opened her presents too. We have given Mum the tea pot and sugar basin featuring Hardraw Falls. Dad says we will go visit the falls with baby when we next come to Horton. 

Lynn and Dave left at 11 and Hilda and Tony walked in at 12:30 and we spent the afternoon eating (again) and drinking (again). Hayley is to be christened on January 29 and the vicar has specified to Karen that she can only have six people in church. Disgusting. Jesus Christ would not approve. We are told that Hayley would have been Ryan, if a boy. Hilda performed the old wives test of holding a dangling needle over Ally's bump. Supposedly, the suspended needle swings back and forth if a boy and if it goes round in circles then it's a girl. The needle today went back and forth, and so our child is a boy. Hilda says she's never been wrong. Dad, in excellent exuberant spirits, showed his contempt for this ritual by carrying out the experiment on all of us. I am expecting a boy, and Hilda is childless. Hers didn't swing either way. We sat until 10 when H and T returned to Pudsey. Tony is very wary of the stringent drink driving law enforcement. I sat looking at the Waltergarth deeds, fascinating paperwork  dating back to the last century. The strong wind blew the smoke back down the chimney and we sat with handkerchiefs over our faces like surgical masks. Much laughter. Bed at 12:30.

-=-

Sunday January 1, 1984

 (New volume)

1st Sunday after Christmas ... New Year's Day

Waltergarth, Station Road, Horton-in-Ribblesdale

New Year's Day saw the Rhodes clan gathered at Waltergarth in the township of Horton-in-Ribblesdale, in the County of North Yorkshire. The first New Year's Day for many years, for me, spent without a crashing head since the distant days of my innocent childhood. Yet, sadly however I am succumbing to a chill. I sneezed throughout and looked blotchy and feverish. Poor mother too is 'chesty' and wrapped in a woollen cardigan by the fireside. 

We had a staggered breakfast again. Just toast and tea and as soon it was decently possible we went out leaving the children with granny and grandad and walked to the Crown for the first shot of alcohol in 1984. I bought a round costing £6.50, but forgot Janette's Creme de Menthe. David, poor boy, had to borrow 50p to buy us all a drink . I am sure the Bakers are destitute since joining the Guiseley elite on Thorpe Lane. I found the draught Guinness most pleasurable. Janette is nervous about tomorrow's flight (they go to Majorca for a week with the Ettenfields) and I attempted to reassure her. 

Waltergarth.

Mum cooked a 20lb turkey for lunch this afternoon and once again it was a 'running buffet'. We all gathered around the log fire (could this be responsible for my dry throat and flowing mucus?). South Pacific nauseates on the TV. John and Janette went off with the Nasons at 4 and we packed the Baker girls off to bed after which all conversations were held in a whisper, &c. The TV droned on in the background. Lynn revealed all about childbirth ___________. We sat up until 12 and sang 'Happy Birthday' to Mum and Dad, but went to bed straight afterwards. Father is now 50 years old.

-=-

Saturday December 31, 1983

 Waltergarth, Station Rd, Horton-in-Ribblesdale

Bitterly cold. Breakfast was in relays because we all got out of bed at different times. Ally and I were last up. Just toast. Mum refuses to cook a 'full English' at the festive season. The cold wind and rain didn't prevent us wrapping up and heading down the lane leaving Mum wrestling with a leg of pork . Ally and Dad looked like sherpas. Christopher came too. We looked at the church and inspected the tomb stones and stood on the bridge watching the grey waters crashing beneath. Sue and Pete took Christopher back and we went into the Crown for a quick one. John and I had Guinness and Dad had lager showing his contempt for Matthew Brown's ale. When we returned home Mum complained. It seems that Dad can go nowhere without her. 

Them.

Us.

We de-frosted in front of a smouldering TV. Dad is becoming more and more anti-telly, and says he could easily put the contraption outside at this time of year. Lynn and Dave arrived with the girls and dusk and the party was complete. Frances and Katie have a very rigorous time-table and once they are in bed we all have to speak in a whisper, and strain to listen to the drone of the TV so not to disturb them. A quiet, yet happy gathering. Sue is a comedienne and delights us. Lynn insisted we watch Barbra Streisand in a sloppy epic, and by 11:30 everyone was drinking coffee. Before midnight I went out into the dark of Horton to await the New Year. Surely enough it arrived and I went in carrying a lump of coal (supposedly to bring good luck) and Dad cracked open four bottles of Italian bubbly. I went out again to let in the New Year at Frances & Bryan's down the lane and she gave me an enormous whisky and equally enormous kiss. She had knocked back three glasses of sherry, more than enough to make her merry. I brought them back to Waltergarth. 

It was Janette's first 'Hogmanay' outside Scotland, and a quiet one by our previous records. I can say with hand on heart that I was sober. How many times have I seen in the New Year without the blur of alcohol upon my eyes? The neighbours left after a glass of plonk and we sat until after 2am. Our child is one of '84 and not '83. Ally so relieved to have got through Christmas intact. Dad crept to bed at 3 and so did the others. I did the washing up with Mum. Mountains of Royal Albert. We had the pink suite. Ally uncomfortable. Baby is pressing down on her ________. And so endeth another year. A year of joy, upheaval and progress. Peace be with you all. Amen.

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Friday December 30, 1983

 5, Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford

Found some sleep at dawn and then slept until almost 11. Ally was ironing downstairs. She wants everything to be in order when the time comes. I went out for my ritual early walk for a newspaper. Perhaps I should order one to be delivered and save my legs. 

Princess Caroline of Monaco is on the front page with her Italian husband. Prince Rainier has grown a beard. I told Ally that the Grimaldi family will now lapse into their debauched, bohemian ways of old now that Princess Grace is no more. She had a firm hand I suspect. It is now only a matter of time before Rainier marries a nightclub singer with a taste for gin. You mark my words. 

Ally has canceled the milk delivery for tomorrow and has decided we should go to Horton today. She is terrified of going into labour in the barren waste of the Yorkshire Dales or on the heights of Pen-y-ghent and needs some assurance that she will be rushed back to Bradford at the slightest twinge. I phoned Sue and Mum. Sue says that John's Christmas party was poorly attended, with only the usual 'friends' and Marlene and Frank. Mum expected us last night for some reason and had bought sticky cream cakes for Ally. Ally phoned Bessie. Graham and Gill arrived today from the island (Isle of Wight) to spend new year at Martyr Worthy.

Mum: in her element.

At 12:30 we went up to have a bath. It's a tight fit for the two of us these days. We laughed about Horton. It's going to be a battle of the beds. Ally has been promised the pink suite, and I shudder at the thought of the children rioting again. We drove up before nightfall and were the first of the family at Waltergarth. The place is warm and festive. Mum is always in her element midst the family at party time. John and Janette brought Sue, Pete and Christopher before 6 and we all ate. Mum had made a game pie - delicious hare, and we enthused. Dumplings too. Christopher, the image of Susie, was calmer. Perhaps he is growing up a bit. A night around the fire drinking and eating in true seasonal style. John is looking bigger, but not with fat, but muscular. Janette suggested that they might marry at Horton Church and John laughed his sides sore. Bed late.

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